


Earthbound Stars

by That_random_weirdo



Series: The Great Kinej Marathon [7]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23041813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_random_weirdo/pseuds/That_random_weirdo
Summary: She had heard that the hell-spawn had an affinity for the number seven. It seemed to be true. The creature bowed its head in acquiescence just a moment later, before vanishing into the night.She sighed with relief and started homeward, oblivious to the mistake she had made. She had promised them seven years of her life.But she had never stated when.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Series: The Great Kinej Marathon [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1474664
Comments: 19
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'm sorry for the wait. Given that this is longer than initially intended, it will be separated into three chapters. As the tags suggest this is set in an alternate universe, but many of the points adhere fairly closely to canon. Inej is human, Kaz is far, and the others...well, you'll just have to see.

Inej’s mother was dying.

It was a beautiful summer and she was young. It should have been a time of happiness and laughter, her spirits buoyed by long hours on the wire gazing across the dizzyingly green earth below. Instead, her worst dreams were being realized.

It had started with a cough. The cough had turned into weakness, and that weakness an infection. The infection had morphed into a ceaseless fever that confined her mother to bed and turned her into a mere shadow of herself. There was only emptiness in her eyes, all the joy and life having long since fled. Inej couldn’t bring herself to stay at her side for long. Her mother’s glassy stare reminded her of a corpse, and the waxy pallor of her skin made the resemblance uncanny.

She had been praying to the saints for weeks, but her mother had continued to deteriorate. Now her desperation had her considering more drastic options.

The nearby townspeople were superstitious in a way that was rarely seen outside of the country. As they passed through, Inej had heard them whisper of wishes, of moonless nights, of an ancient tree in a haunted clearing where the spawn of the unholy unions between angels and demons roamed. Over the past few days, she had returned to learn as much about the ritual as she could.

She was told that on nights of the new moon those foolish (or desperate) enough to bargain with the fae gathered around the primeval oak to tie a little strip of blood-dipped cloth around the branches. Supposedly, this would summon one of the demon-spawn willing to make an exchange.

But it was dangerous, as all dealings with the fae were. For while they could not lie, they could still deceive. There were certain precautions to be taken to prevent the faery from making any untoward enchantments. She was to turn her socks inside out and fill her pockets with salt. She was to carry a string of rowan berries and a pendant of iron and never accept anything they offered freely, for there was nothing freely given amongst the folk. She was to word her terms carefully, lest they twist her words and take advantage.

Inej had gone over her request carefully in her mind, rewording it again and again to try to get exactly what she wanted.

She crept out after dark, her protective charms hidden around her neck and in her pockets and shoes. The woods were black and ominous in the moonless night, and every small noise in the stillness sent her heart pounding. 

With a start, Inej realized that she was stopped at the edge of the cursed clearing. The enormous oak in the center loomed forbiddingly, ragged ribbons trailing from the edges of its blackened limbs. She stepped closer, gaze turned skyward, seeking out an empty space for her to tie her own red-soaked rag to. There was one just within reach. Inej stood as tall as she could, eyes averted from the oppressive darkness of the forest beyond. 

She dropped down with a sigh, then turned around. She only just managed to stifle her scream.

A twisted creature crouched in the shadows. It had rough, mottled brown skin like bark and burning yellow eyes. It leered mockingly, and Inej saw that its teeth were grey and green like mossy stone. 

Was this one of the fae she sought? She dared not ask. 

Its voice was dry with the dust of bygone days when it spoke, dry and crackling like fallen leaves. “What is it you seek?”

“My mother’s life and health.”

The creature’s monstrous grin never changed. “And what do you have to offer?”

Inej swallowed, throat dry with anticipation. She held her head high, and hoped she looked unafraid. “Seven years of my own life.”

She had heard that the hell-spawn had an affinity for the number seven. It seemed to be true. The creature bowed its head in acquiescence just a moment later, before vanishing into the night.

She sighed with relief and started homeward, oblivious to the mistake she had made. She had promised them seven years of her life.

But she had never stated when.  
~~~~~  


Inej rushed to her mother’s wagon, stomach twisting with a nauseating combination of anticipation and dread. She eased open the door, heart pounding furiously at the thought of what she might find.

Her mother’s face greeted her from amongst the gathered pillows, thin and worn but alive. Her eyes were bright and alert for the first time in weeks.

Inej choked on a sob of relief. Her plan had worked.

And it had only cost her a few twilight years she was sure she would not miss.  
~~~~~  


They came for her months later, on the morning of the equinox. She was alone, having stayed behind to sleep a little longer instead of heading out to take down the camp like she should have. There were three of them, hulking, grotesquely deformed creatures. They dragged her away before she could even draw a breath to scream, and emptied the contents of a little leather pouch down her throat when she tried anyways.

The world grew grey and green and gold at the edges, a blur of color and sound. It swirled around her, going faster and faster as she was taken down, down, down into the earth.  
~~~~~  


She awoke to an apparition in shimmering blue.

The woman was tall and fair, with all the radiance of the heavenly forefathers of her kind. The points of her ears and her ageless beauty marked her as one of the fair folk, though she contrasted sharply with the monstrous beings that had spirited her away. Dizzily, Inej remembered that the fae of the courts looked much more human than their wild brethren.

The woman saw that she was awake. She looked down at Inej, disdainful and impersonal, as though she was nothing more than a stain on the bottom of one of her perfect golden slippers. 

“Come.” Her voice was laced with a hypnotic allure. The command pierced through the fog in her mind; Inej scrambled to her feet against her will, powerless to resist the faerie’s enchantment.

She was taken from her barren lodgings to an ornate chamber a floor down. She stumbled once along the way, and caught a glimpse of her own gold-dusted body. Dully, she realized that she was naked. 

The new room was lit with braziers of golden flame and dripped with bright silks in shades of purple and blue. The air was thick and sultry, the heavy smell of perfume laying densely over the new occupant. In the center was a massive bed, hung with gauzy curtains.

Inej was pushed onto the bed and force-fed a glimmering powder. It tasted sickly sweet and vaguely familiar. As the world spun out of focus, she recognized it as the same burnt-sugar substance she had been fed earlier. The lurid colors of the silks broke apart and overwhelmed her as her limbs became leaden and her head emptied, pulling her into a bleak whirlpool of unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! Might be longer than anticipated, so I might add more chapters.

She was told that she was in the debt of Tante Heleen at the House of the Exotics. It was the place the fair folk came for a taste of mortal flesh, of mortal pleasure. For while most were more beautiful by far, for them there was an allure in the idea of mortality. They were enamored with the concept of beauty that faded instead of remaining unchanged for eternity. And Tante Heleen had taken advantage of that in the worst possible way.

The wondrously intricate impression of a peacock feather etched into the skin of her forearm marked her as a member of Heleen’s mortal menagerie. It marked her as a commodity to be bought and sold like so much meat, and Inej hated it with every fiber of her being.

It was not too terrible; not at first, not as it would be later. In the beginning, she was confined to that private chamber, always drugged into complacency. At least with the drugs she could leave herself, ignore what was happening. But then Heleen deemed that she had been there long enough and took away the drugs and took her to the main room to be displayed, to be advertised with all the others. Then there was no denying what was happening, what had been happening for days, weeks, maybe even months. Time had no meaning in the Menagerie. She counted the passage of days by the ebb and flow of customers, and kept herself purposefully distant so she would not break as her body was defiled. It worked, at least for a little while. Then there came a customer, a changeling, who had seen her when she had been in the mortal world, who whispered oiled words about her performance on the wire, who brought her back to herself. She had cried then, for the first time since her capture, but the fae had not cared. The next day, Heleen had come in to punish her for her weakness.

She had not cried since.

~~~~~

The other girls came and went; they were bought and sold, were used up and then thrown aside when their beauty was gone. But while the girls changed, their little display did not. There was always one fair-skinned redhead, the mare; one golden-eyed dark-haired girl from the far east, the serpent; and so many others, each of them mortal, each of them no more than an animal. And there was her, the lynx. Not human enough to have a name, she remained the lynx even as the others came and went and were consumed and discarded one after another. Sometimes she wished to join them, sometimes she considered making it so, but always she berated herself for it when the urge had passed. She was miserable but alive, and as long as it stayed that way she would have a chance of seeing her family again. She had promised seven years, and every night she dreamed of the day those seven years would be over.

Inej kept herself largely separate from the rest of the girls, lounging on the golden cushions of their gilded cage; waiting to be selected and brought to a side chamber and used.

Separate though she was, she could not escape their idle talk. They whispered about customers, of happenings in the court, of upcoming events they were to attend. They spoke of the princes, of customers they loathed, of customers they longed to be chosen by.

They spoke too much. All of it blended together endlessly in the numbness of Inej’s mind.

But there was one they spoke of that stood out against the endless stream of frivolous chatter. Though he came by often for information spilled by loose-lipped clients drunk on pleasure, he never partook of any of the girls. He was strange and savage, distinct even amongst the habitual savagery of the fae.

Though the girls spoke of him with disgust, there was a primitive hunger that glinted in their eyes whenever he was mentioned. He was more terrible than most and less beautiful than many, but they were drawn to him nonetheless. 

They said he was willing to do anything for a price. They said he could divine secrets just by looking at you. They said that the reason he limped was a long-ago curse. They said the eyes of his cane could see because they held the souls of the casualties of his triumphs. They said he was a lost prince of a distant court. They said he could not be killed. They said there was a dark pit in his chest in place of a heart. They said his hands were claws, perpetually red with the blood of his victims.

They said, they said, they said. Inej was sure that not even half of what they said was true. But with the fae, she could never really tell

.

But not even Inej could avoid Dirtyhands’ intrigue. She found herself watching with the others whenever he entered, albeit for different reasons. They gravitated towards him like he was the sun and they were planets in some dark mirror of the universe.

It had been another monotonous evening, and Dirtyhands was leaving once more. As he made his way out of the stifling chamber, Inej was struck by a sudden suicidal impulse. She crept lightly behind him, unnoticed by the other girls. 

“I can help you.” She didn’t know how, but she knew she could. She would help him with anything, if only to escape.

He paused for a moment and turned just far enough to see her from the corner of his eye, but gave no other indication he had heard. She took a step back, breath frozen in her chest, hoping desperately against hope that she had not made a terrible mistake. The glittering eyes of his crow’s head cane seemed to glare menacingly in the harsh shadows. In the space of a blink, Dirtyhands crossed the distance to the door and vanished.

Inej was left terrified and more alone than ever. ~~~~~ 

She did not sleep that night, dreading the reckoning that was sure to come. And when she was summoned to Tante Heleen’s business chamber the next morning, Inej was resigned to her fate in a way that she had never been before. Though Inej was tempted to dawdle as long as possible, she knew that Heleen would only be angrier if she was kept waiting

.

Dirtyhands stood across from Tante Heleen. While Heleen’s elegant face was twisted with displeasure, there was a gleam in Dirtyhands' eyes that seemed almost triumphant.

“You will complete the remainder of your service in the debt of Per Haskell.”

Inej wondered if that was his name. Names held a peculiar power among the fae, so it was more than unusual that his was given so freely.

Heleen looked down at Dirtyhands and sniffed disapprovingly. “Perhaps the old man will even share her with you.”

Ah. Not his name then.

He moved to exit the chamber with scarcely a nod of acknowledgment to Heleen. After a paralyzing moment of disbelief, Inej followed.

He led her through a twisting maze of rambling paths; of crowded market stalls and looming buildings. The air was heavy with strange spices and the dry, earthy tang of latent magic. It was new and alien, and Inej could feel that same magic sinking down into her core; a dull, warm thrumming that curled deep in her chest. It was heady, intoxicating, and she was dizzy with it by the time their surroundings changed. The buildings were more worn now, most of them in various states of disrepair. That warm current of magic had become colder, darker. Inej shivered with an unseen breeze as that icy current sank deep into her bones. They came to a three-storied affair separated from its taller neighbors by a thin alley on either side. 

“The Slat.”

Inej startled when he spoke. His voice was nothing like what she expected. It was like the rasp of rough stone, an unexpected sound after listening to the lilting speech of the highborn fae for so long. Somehow, it suited him. 

He led her inside, through the narrow corridors and up the stairs to a nondescript- surprisingly human- office on the third floor. It was dim, lit only by the strange, pale sun of the land under the hill. Suddenly, he turned and seized her jaw with one gloved hand. His eyes were a piercing, inhuman black. They pinned her to the spot as he stared, considering.

“Lie to me.”

A strangled “what?” was all she could manage

.

“Lie to me,” he repeated; slow and patient as though he was speaking to a small child. “About me, about you, about this room, anything. It merely must be obvious that it is a lie.”

Her eyes darted around the room frantically, searching for a latent lie.“The walls are painted green.”

The walls were not green, not even close.

He released her face, apparently satisfied. “That little talent of yours will be very useful, no doubt.”

Useful for what? Inej dared not ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, comments are my lifeblood!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Inej observes and Nina enters the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright y'all, thanks to being stuck in my house because of the coronavirus, I'll have some more time than usual to write. However, this is going to be significantly longer than the three chapters I originally intended it to be. It'll likely cover the main events of the book, and will be entirely from Inej's POV. I may consider doing one from Kaz's POV later.

Dirtyhands’ name was Kaz Brekker. Inej knew it wasn’t really. The fae rarely gave their full names so freely even to those they loved, let alone slaves they’d known for less than a week.

The office on the third floor was his, as was the room beside it. Inej’s quarters were directly under on the floor below. It was a tiny, cramped space, but it was hers. She hadn’t had anything of her own in years.

The two of them were of the few permanent residents of the Slat, though there were many who claimed it as sanctuary. It was open to all members of the Dregs, a group comprised of both commoners and disgraced gentry. They had been described as factions, as scavengers, as a criminal court. Inej thought that their terms were merely a fancy way to say "a gang." Their leader was Per Haskell; a grizzled, jaundiced old man with a faux fatherly air. Kaz was his lieutenant.

And she was his Wraith. The name had been thrust upon her abruptly after the display of her abilities during her first assignment. It was a moniker intended to subsume her human identity. Kaz made it clear that it was safest for her to guard herself against her mortality. Her full name became her secret, known only to herself and Kaz; her first name was likewise unbeknownst to all but a select few. The salt never left her pockets, and an iron blade rested in her boot. Two bone-handled knives lay in twin sheaths strapped to her legs, and a half-dozen more remained with her at all times.

She was a thief now, and a murderess. Two things she had thought she would never be. But that was in another life; a softer, gentler one. In this life, she seamlessly slid into the role, despite how much it hurt.

She stole secrets, gathered information. Her former training as an acrobat and her novel ability to lie made her ideal for the job. And her job was never done. For if there was one thing Ketterdam had, it was endless secrets.

Ketterdam was the heart of the Kerch Court, one of the five major courts in the land under the hill. It was situated between Novyi Zem to the west, and Ravka, Shu Han, and Fjerda in the east and north. It was full of merchant lords who capitulated on the wars in the kingdoms of the east.

But people like Kaz were part of a different court. The Court of Shadows, as it was mockingly called by the contemptuous gentry. It thrived in the dark underbelly of Ketterdam, lurked behind the glamorous facade the highborns loved so dearly.

She hated it. But she had hated the Menagerie more.

So she bore it all and hid her mortal fragility and watched and learned.

The fair folk were many, and their forms varied. While most in the courts looked somewhat human, there were often obvious differences, both beguiling and bizarre. There were men with horns and women with bright scarab shells and beings that were bewinged or scaled or pale as death. Per Haskell himself had furred ears and the lightest grey tint to his skin.

Kaz had no such markings. His hands were long and pale, but human; his leg twisted, but not bestial; his eyes bonfire-bright, but not luminous (though perhaps it was only she who noticed that last one).

The fair folk even felt differently from humans. Love and hate were all-consuming but fleeting all the same, anger and sorrow were not as deep but could fester for all eternity. Joy was euphoria, contentment and stability more akin to boredom. Everything was both simpler and more intense all at once.

This seemed not to apply to Kaz. Sometimes Inej wondered if he even felt such things at all.

The fair folk had dubious morality at best, and nonexistent at worst.

Now this matched Kaz.

But she had no space to judge. She had once considered herself to have strong morals. She still did. And yet, she committed atrocities on a regular basis.

Was she really any better than the fae?

In another life, her answer would have always been yes. Now, she wasn’t so sure.  
~~~~~  


Even amongst the fae, there were those remarkable for their inborn sorcery. The Grisha, as some called them. Abominations, according to others. They were revered, they were feared; they were honored, they were hunted. In the end, they were tools; weapons to be wielded as was convenient. Inej shook her head, as though she could shake away the thought that she was just the same.

 _Well,_ she mused, _perhaps not exactly the same._ She possessed no supernatural ability, nothing that would set her apart beyond her mortality and her acrobat’s training and her outright lies. 

The point was, Grisha were rare and valuable in this part of the land under the hill. And she had recently heard whispers of the arrival of a new one to Ketterdam. 

Kaz’s eyes had taken on that witchfire gleam when she had brought him the news; the one that meant a scheme was coming together in his labyrinthine mind. Now she was hurrying along the cobblestone paths in the dark, rushing to recruit the grisha before one of the other factions could.

She was a Heartrender; one of the fearsome order known for killing through will alone. A skilled heartrender could still your heart, stop your breath, boil the very blood in your veins. And Kaz wanted to put her on the payroll.

She was dwelling in the House of the White Rose already. No matter; Kaz didn’t need her all the time. The only thing that was important was that she would come when he did. Inej crept along the side of the House of the White Rose, feeling for minute crevices along the brickwork. Then she dug her fingers in, found purchase, and began her ascent. There was a window on the second story, facing away from the main street. There. It was narrow and locked. That was of no obstacle to Inej. She slipped soundlessly into the room. The heartrender was turned away, unaware of her presence.

Inej cleared her throat meaningfully. The heartrender whirled around, hands half-raised, ready to defend herself. She was beautiful; tall and voluptuous, with spring-green eyes and a cherry-red mouth and down-soft hair. Somehow, that surprised her. Most of the human-looking fair folk were slender and sharp, not so generously endowed. 

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

The girl’s stance did not grow any less wary; if anything, her face had become harder and more guarded. 

“Funny way of showing it, creeping through my window in the dead of night.”

“I understand that you have received an offer from one of the local factions.”

Her eyes were cold and inscrutable, like the sea glass Inej had spent hours searching for along the shore as a child. “What of it?”

“My employer has a counter-offer.” The words were bitter against her tongue. Was she really doing this? Dooming another to the life of crime she lived? Inej tried to tell herself that even if she didn’t, another would. The excuse rang hollow even within the confines of her own head.

“Does he now.” The heartrender’s voice was not quite as acerbic as it had been. Inej thought that was a good sign. “What makes you think I’ll take it?”

Inej looked her in the eye as best she could, and summoned up the words that had convinced her to stay, even though she was drawn deeper into a pit of iniquity and further away from salvation with every passing day. “Because you have nowhere else to go. Because even if you turn down both offers; his, and the one before, there’ll always be others waiting to get ahold of you. Because we can promise you safety from slavers, from other factions, from whatever you’re running from.” She had her attention now. Inej’s voice dropped, low and dangerous, an ugly edge curling around her words. “Because anybody else offering will use you up and bleed you dry and cast you aside when you are no longer of use.” Her breaths came heavy now. Inej forced them to soften. “Just think about it. I know you’re smart.”

Inej turned away without waiting for a reply, heart pounding and stomach roiling, and hoisted herself back through the window. She was gone in a flash of soft black and midnight blue, a scrap of paper with just a few words written on it fluttering to the floor in her wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and commenting and giving kudos, not just on this, but on all my other works as well!

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the first part. Tell me how you like it! The next part will be up in a few days. Comments are my lifeblood.


End file.
